


Don't shoot the messenger

by Sevi007



Series: Healing Rain [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake - Fandom
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Friendship, Gen, Hurt, Panic Attacks, Scenes from the Remake and the Original game, Spoilers for FFVII Remake, Starts in Crisis Core goes through FFVII and ends post-Advent Children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: A Turk did not have any use for regret in their lives. Their job simply did not allow it. Regret lead to guilt, which lead to doubt, which slowed you down. In the end, it would only get you killed in action.And still, there were 88 undelivered letters, locked away in Tseng’s desk, which spoke of the one regret he could never quite shake, no matter how many years passed.(Why, just why, had they decided to put their faith in him? He was always too late when it really mattered.)
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough & Tseng, Zack Fair & Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Series: Healing Rain [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719283
Comments: 31
Kudos: 48





	1. Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> Recently finished "Crisis Core" for the first time and what probably hit me the hardest was the relationship the turks had with Zack. So! What did I do? Sat down and wrote a fic about it, with Tseng in the focus... and it got longer... and longer...  
> And here we are. The Post-AC oneshot I had planned suddenly morphed into snapshots throughout the entire FFVII compilation, in chronological order. XD 
> 
> Hope I did the characters some justice, at least!

The… _thing_ was still sitting up there, high in the creaking old rafters, when Tseng entered the church on quiet feet.

The chimera-esque creature loomed upright on its perch, alert and ready, its long neck angled so it could watch the Turk below it. With its silvery body and its white wings, crippled though as one was, it could have almost fit into this once religious place. It could have almost seemed beautiful, serene even.

But not to Tseng. He did not like its presence in the rickety old building, and professionality be damned, he did not make any effort to hide it. It didn’t _matter_ if it had not done anything wrong yet, or that it supposedly shared some genes with the SOLDIER 1st class Angeal Hewley. It was a monster, one of Shinra’s warped experiments, and if it had gone his way, Tseng would have shot the hellish thing down the moment he had set eyes on it for the first time, all those years ago.

But of course things did not go his way.

“Tseng,” the melodic voice echoed of the high walls and ceiling, the commanding, exasperated tone at odds with the kindness usually present there. “Stop glaring at him. You’re being rude to my bodyguard.”

The Turk breathed out slowly, a long blink the only hint to the annoyed sigh he had swallowed just there.

“You do realize,” he answered evenly without even redirecting his gaze to the girl, “that that is _our_ job.”

Aerith’s laughter bounced off the walls like ricocheting bullets. “When have you ever been my bodyguard? More like a guard in front of my cage.”

He had taken stabs through gaps in his bulletproof outfit which had been less pointed. Of course she was right. She had been too smart for her own good, too aware of the situation she was in, ever since he had met her.

Above him, the creature’s tail lashed, head tilting to the side. He had the nasty feeling that the thing was _laughing_ at him. It only made his glaring turn even icier.

A sigh. “Tseng. That was not supposed to be an insult. I’m sorry. Please, I did not want to see you today just to fight.”

One last sharp look at the beast before he finally lowered his gaze to look up ahead, towards the flower field that grew her all year and nowhere else.

Aerith had risen from her crouch by now, meeting his eyes evenly. There were stains on the front of her dress from her gardening but she did not seem to notice or mind. Instead she reached to check the fit of the now so familiar pink ribbon holding her ponytail together, as it always had ever since-… 

Tseng blinked again, hard. Smothering any thought on the man who had gifted it to her, sealing them away in the recesses of his mind. He could not allow to let any of it show on his face in the following conversation. 

Until now he had avoided crossing the nave towards her but when she folded her hands, tilting her head in that expectant way of hers, there was not really any reason he could give not to. Still he kept his steps slow and measured. Delaying the inevitable for as long as he could.

“I was hoping-…” 

There it was. He should not have come here. “Another?”

 _It’s been four years,_ he wanted to tell her. Of course he never did. It was not his job. But then, none of this was, and he couldn’t help but wonder still. _Will you never give up?_

_It would be easier._

“This might be the last one.”

The declaration seemed so in tune with his thoughts that it made him pause, faltering slightly. Had he misheard…?

But, no. Aerith was indeed frowning down at the envelope in her hand - pristine and with four swooping letters in the middle of it, just like each one before this one – as if she was considering taking it back. “This might be the last one,” she repeated, voice softer this time. Looking up, she flashed him a wobbly smile, shrugging. “I mean, it’s kind of silly to keep writing if I never get an answer, right…?”

There was something hopeful in her voice. As if she waited for him to disagree. For him to encourage her to keep trying.

Of course he didn’t. He did not agree with her, either, made no sound or move at all while he kept watching her until the half-smile slept of her face and she sighed. Held the envelope out to him with both hands. “Please?”

Just like all the other times, he took the envelope and slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit before he can overthink it. He will do so later, in the quiet of his office, with a box marked as “sealed” sitting in front of him. Will tell himself that he should know better than this.

But then, apparently, he did not. If he did, they would not be here right now.

Tseng expected that to be that and to be sent on his way again. Instead Aerith kept looking at him, head tilted, lips pursed.

“What?” He finally brought himself to ask.

“You _are_ delivering them, right? You’re not keeping them all for yourself? _”_

For one horrifying second was is as if she had read his mind and saw the sealed box there in his memories. Of course that was not _possible_ however, and he forced himself to keep breathing evenly, to not let his expression twitch.

It must have worked, since Aerith snorted rather unladylike and shook her head, whirling away from him. “Just kidding! I know you wouldn’t do something like that.”

She left him there to go back to tending to her flowers. He should have taken the opportunity and slipped away, left her to it before she could throw him off again.

Instead he found himself frozen to the spot. Found treacherous ideas passing through his mind as he watched her skip away and felt the envelope burn against the spot on his chest.

He could tell her – tell her about the breakout they had been informed hours ago, two “samples” escaping and apparently head in the direction of Gongaga. Tell her about the lost connection with Cissnei, right after she had lied in his face about having lost the target.

Could tell her that there is only one man outside the ranks of turks for whom Cissnei would ignore her orders.

The very same man whose name was imprinted on 87 plus one letters Tseng had been tasked with delivering. 

But all of that was _classified information_ and even thinking about sharing any of it might already with treason. Being _here_ and accepting these letters was already pushing it, and he knew better - _should_ know better than pushing and pushing until something gives. 

So what instead left his lips was -

“Why me?”

Instantly Tseng wished he could take the words back. He had not meant to say that out loud. It had been on his mind for a long time, a lament – or as close to lamenting as he ever got – nagging and prodding whenever she called him here, whenever he had to seal another letter away unopened, unread, another mark of failure branded into his mind.

Why him? Why not Rude, who would have denied her request in that direct-yet-not-harsh way he had. Why not Reno, who would have flopped his hand at her and made a snide comment and the subject would have never come up again.

Why bring him into this situation he felt he could not escape from?

It was out in the room now, and it was obvious that even as low as the words had been, Aerith had heard them and understood them when she paused and turned back, eyes surprised and wide and so goddamned _searching_.

And then she had to make everything worse by humming thoughtfully before smiling _._ A real, honest smile like the one she so rarely directed at him. Trusting and full of light. “Because bodyguard or not, you’re dependable. Even I know that. So… I’m counting on you, Tseng.”

All air left him in a rush as if he had been punched in the gut. He felt like that just happened for real, because did she even _know_ – had she _any idea_ -

It had been four years now, four years of time and more important things, and by all means he should have _forgotten_ about it, because it had not been an official job, simply a silly promise between… acquaintances…, the fervent words of a naïve young man thinking he could count on Tseng, could make him _promise_ something and hold him to it just by staring at him with sincere blue eyes and his heart on his sleeve, _trusting_ -

But Tseng had not forgotten, could not, when it was still ringing loud and clear in his head even after all these years, and when he had honored it every single day since. 

_“You’re the only one I can depend on.”_

_“H-Hey! Why are you laughing?!”_

_“I’m counting on you.”_

Tseng whipped around on his heels and strode towards the old double gates and into the gloomy slums beyond them without ever turning around or saying a single word. He did not pause to send the damned chimera a last warning look just for the sake of it, didn’t tune back in to hear if Aerith tried to stop him and call him back.

He did not stop or slow down until he was back up on the plate, back in HQ, back in his office with the door slamming shut behind him.

Several times on the way there, the idea of drawing out the letter from his breast pocket and throwing it into the nearest dump crossed his mind.

He never did.

The letter found its way into the sealed box, along with 87 others of its kind.

And Tseng went back to waiting on a phone call that would, hopefully, finally relieve him off all of them once and for all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the phone call came-…

It was the opposite of everything Tseng had hoped for.

It was Rude who called him – not Cissnei. The moment he had seen the number flash on his screen he had known something was _wrong_ because Cissnei had been the one who had wanted to call once the job was, _she_ had been the one tasked on preserving _his life_ and if she did not call now –

He took the call and listened to Rude’s calm voice retelling what they had discovered.

They had found him off the road to Midgard, not too far from the city, surrounded by half a battalion of infantrymen.

Zack Fair had fallen in one last stand that had been equally as heroic as it was _hopeless,_ but apparently had succeeded in one last thing – letting the one accompanying him get away.

One fugitive dead. The other missing.

It could have been only minutes that they arrived too late, Rude reported, the blood had not yet soaked into the mud below it, the body was still warm even though it had rained. There were still fresh footprints leading towards Midgard, and if they followed them right now-…

Tseng disconnected the call with a “ _no further pursuit_ ” and a decisive click. He had not been listening after the first bit of information, anyway. There was simply no point in chasing after someone who had been of no interest to them, anyway, and…

His gaze was riveted by the box sitting in the middle of his desk, brimming up to the rim with letters. 88 one of them, all unopened, unread.

What did it matter, now?

Zack Fair was dead, and the letters would never reach their destination.


	2. Set in motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of getting any time to mourn or even breath, Tseng's life continues to get turned upside down - and in danger - with his department in short staffed and falling apart, and Aerith making friends with people who bring back unpleasant memories from the past...   
> Because no matter what Tseng attempts, old promises seem to always come back and haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch out SPOILERS for the FFVII Remake from here on out! (Not for the ending, mind you. Only approximately up to chapter 12 or 13) This chapter follows the events of the game very closely (though adding some more to it, artistic freedom and all that). 
> 
> There's also some information and references in this concering the "Before Crisis" game - but it's only mentioned in passing, so I would say you don't need to know the game to understand this chapter.

Things started to fall apart after that fated phone call, and Tseng would always remember it as the push who set it all in motion.

Of course that was not true. It was only a simple phone call, after all, one of many, and the events surrounding it had nothing to do with the sheer _madness_ which picked up soon after it. Still he could not help but pinpoint this one one-sided conversation as the starting point of it all when he later got time to reflect on everything.

But reflection came much, much later. One thing after the other happened so quickly, he could barely even catch a breath, much less think about anything.

First Zack.

Then the fiasco with Zirconiade

Veld’s execution, to be conducted by Tseng’s own hand.

(To this day, he still saw the other man – his mentor, his _friend_ – crumble to the ground to the sound of a shot reverberating whenever he allowed himself to think of the former leader of the turks. No matter how many times he told himself _Not lethal, I didn’t kill him, he’s alive_ his nightmares twisted the memory into Veld’s lifeless body, last breath wheezing into the air between them and eyes going glassy, and mocked him _You killed him without even hesitating What a **friend** you are_.) 

Finally, the waiting. Waiting if by the dawn of the next day, they would all be fired – or executed.

Neither happened, thanks to Rufus Shinra’s decision that the turks could still be _useful_ to him, but it did not make things easy, after. Tseng had lost most of his subordinates; most of them gone into hiding all over the planet, hoping Shinra’s claws wouldn’t reach them and drag them back.

Only he, Reno and Rude remained to shoulder the entire workload of dirty work for the Company.

His department was on the brink of extinction, their fate like a card house in a storm which he was supposed to save from falling somehow.

And as if destiny wanted to play a cruel joke for him, _that_ was the time where everything he had avoided to think about so carefully for years now was pushed back into focus, and old promises were put to the test.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tseng did not think much about the attack on Reactor 5 at first. It simply did not fall into his jurisdiction, for one, and Heidegger had been assigned to handle things on that specific front. An order he had taken with too much sadistic glee and swollen with pride.

Of course Tseng was aware what Heidegger and President Shinra’s plan for AVALANCHE were. He did like to keep himself updated, after all. But other than a short annoyance at the way things were handled – setting the terrorist up as so-called Wutai servants and broadcasting it all across Midgar was the kind of dirty, political power play Tseng tended to avoid – he did not spare it further thought, and dedicated himself to his own work. There was plenty to be done.

Then, the morning after the attack on Reactor 5, the reports reached him. The moment he saw which subject was the focus of the urgent messages, Tseng nearly dropped the cup of coffee he had allowed himself to get through his paperwork.

_“ **Urgent -** Possible threat towards The Ancient” _

Any thought about priorities and other things on his to-do list when he settled behind his desk and immersed himself in the reports.

A quick scan of the content painted a rather curious situation to what was happening in the church of slum 5. Apparently, a self-proclaimed Ex-SOLDIER had appeared right in the middle of the church – not entering the building through the giant front doors or one of the smaller sidedoors but rather, as several eye witnesses vowed up and down, having _fallen through the ceiling._

At this point in his lecture, Tseng already felt a bad feeling creep up on him. The only thing higher than the church in this slum – the only thing _above_ the church – happened to be the very reactor which had been under attack mere hours before.

Things didn’t get better as he continued reading. The unknown individual, SOLDIER or not, had not only declared himself to be Aerith’s “bodyguard” to the troops sent to detain and interrogate him, no. He had also proceeded to take out Reno, as if taking on a trained turk was nothing, and then had taken Aerith with him on his escape. Or, as it seemed from the description, Aerith had willingly go with him. Both of them had managed to slip away from the reinforcements sent after them, and the report explained that ever since then, the unorthodox duo had not been seen again.

The whole thing was a disaster for sure.

Tseng leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together as he thought quickly. The fact alone that this so-called SOLDIER was able to take out Reno with ease was worrisome enough, as it made it quite possibly that he was _indeed_ a former SOLDIER. That alone was enough to raise the level of the potential threat from “minor” to “decent” at least. But that he had taken Aerith – or she had decided to go with him on her own free will, which would at least be slightly better…

Either way, it never should have happened. Not on their watch.

A quick surge of worry went through Tseng; the beginning regret of _Should have been there to-…_ before he shoved it back behind lock and key.

There was no way he could have been there to prevent these events. After all, he had never set a foot into the church after… _after_.

Reno or Rude did the same job just fine. Usually.

But not this time, and they would have to deal with this new problem as soon as possible. An Ex-SOLDIER was automatically a fugitive, and a fugitive walking around freely in the middle of Midgard, interacting with the Ancient under the Turks’ surveillance and _taking out_ said surveillance, would only draw Shinra’s attention. Maybe they would decide that it was time to bring their precious Ancient One back into the safety of the bowels of their facilities, where she would be “safe from all harm”.

The thought should not have made Tseng’s teeth grind as it did.

He pulled up the reports on his computer, quickly scanning over them once more while searching for the attached files – pictures of the inside of the church, close-ups of their new possible target.

Once he found them and enhanced one of them, the world stopped turning before everything seemed to speed up again.

_I know that sword_ , was his very first though. A pointless, unprofessional thing he would have kicked himself for at any other time but true nonetheless – for the Buster Sword could not be mistaken for anything else. And there it was, by some twist of fate, in the hand of this blond young man calling himself SOLDIER, and not next to its fallen master as it should have been.

He had never even known the weapon was missing in the first place. Maybe he would have thought the newcomer a common thief who had gotten a hold of the sword in some other way – had he not finally directed his gaze to the young man himself, and instantly felt the next chill go down his spine.

_I know that face, too._

The memories resurfaced first hazy, then rushing in like a dam breaking. For the blink of an eye, he was back on the way to Modeoheim – their helicopter shot down, wind howling over snowy mountains and carrying the scent of burning oil with it, snowmelt pressing through his shoes which were decidedly not made for trudging along in the footsteps of one enthusiastic SOLDIER 1st class who seemed unbothered by all of this, and falling behind even one of the infantrymen-…

_“Good news, Tseng! Me and Cloud here, are both backwater experts! Oh yeah!”_

Pieces started to fall into place, one after the other. The reason why Zack had stood and fought, instead of trying to outrun an enemy he couldn’t take. The one missing test sample they had not found next to the fallen man. The familiar sword in the possession of this new problem they had to deal with.

The answer stared back at Tseng from his computer screen with mako-eyes, sword in hand and determination in every line of his face as he stood between Aerith and the approaching Shinra troops.

Like a shadow of the past returned to remind him of promises he couldn’t keep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Boss?”

Tseng dragged his unseeing gaze up only after another beat, focusing on the person standing in front of his desk with a slow blink. Of course he had heard Rude come in a while ago; he had simply waited until the man would take whatever thing he had come here for and left again silently, or until he decided to speak up with a question.

Apparently it was to be the later today.

Of all the days… 

Straightening up under his superior’s gaze, Rude cleared his throat shortly. He had always been silent, preferring to stay mute unless something absolutely necessary and important needed to be said. It was why he made such a good partner for Reno, who was the polar opposite.

“Was wondering if surveillance on Sector 5 would need to be tightened.”

It took Tseng and his circling, racing thoughts a moment to figure out what Rude could possibly be saying without saying it. He leaned back in his chair slowly, folding his hands together while he considered. “Is this supposed to be revenge for Reno?”

Something like a smirk flitted over the man’s face, too quickly hidden behind impassiveness again to really take it in. “He will want to do that himself, boss.”

“Mh.” True enough. Reno had made no secret about his offense that a _kid with a toothpick playing SOLDIER_ had been able to best him and that he had _not been fighting seriously, boss, not gonna go the same way next time._ He had been very vocal about it, in fact, until Tseng had coolly pointed out that he was supposed to fight seriously at _all_ times, and the whole humiliation that came with his defeat was, thus, nobody else’s fault but his own.

The following silent brooding had gone one until he had kicked the redhead out of his office.

But if revenge was not Rude’s reason for requesting this specific job, it left only one possible explanation. And Tseng did not like the implication of it.

Out of all of them, Rude was possibly the one with the softest spot for the girl, Aerith.

Or, at least, he was the one who failed at hiding it the most, Tseng thought with a pang, pushing thoughts of promises and letters out of his mind.

He should put an end to this, he knew that. No attachment to a target could be allowed, ever. Not to mention that they were short staffed, and the order concerning the next steps to be taken in regard to Sector 7 and the detonation of the pillar could come in at any point in time…

And yet. _Yet_.

Tseng’s gaze flicked to his computer screen, where he could still make out a hint of mako-green eyes.

_Promises he couldn’t keep…_

“… Communication stays open. You could be called into another job any second, I need you to be aware of that.”

For an outsider, nothing about Rude would have changed; his trained eyes however caught the way his shoulders slackened the slightest bit before he stood straight again. “Got it.”

Waving him off with a flick of his wrist, Tseng only waited until the door clicked shut again and he was alone once more before he released a soundless sigh and pushed to his feet.

He needed something to drink while he waited for further orders. He couldn’t keep wondering about the past catching up to him, about SOLDIERs with familiar swords and girls selling flowers, when there was a very _real_ threat of having to wipe out an eighth of an entire city was looming over him and his people.

_Work first._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was chaos down on the ground. People were running, yelling, helping each other up to keep going. They were set on escaping, as they should be; too scared and busy to even notice the Shinra helicopter above their heads going lower, hovering over the streets.

(How was this to be a solution? _This?_ Wiping out an entire district could not be a counter measure for one small group of terrorists-…)

Keeping his mind carefully blank, Tseng looked straight ahead, directing his gaze to the ground down below only when he absolutely had to. He knew what he was looking for; had come here for one person, and one person only, and it would be easy to find her.

Aerith had always stuck out; a flower amongst rocks.

This time, that trait would work against her.

The second order had come through at the worst possible time. Right after he had relayed the final order, the one he had dreaded and hoped to never have to utter, to Reno and Rude.

The plate above Sector 7 was going to fall.

… No, that was not right.

 _They_ would make the plate fall.

The order had been given. The Turks had been brought into position – pointed like a gun between the eyes of innocents. Shinra itself would wash their hands of this responsibility. It would lay heavy on the conscience of Tseng’s subordinates, and them only.

It was only a matter of minutes, now. Half an hour, tops.

And that was when the next order came. A blow to blindside him when he had already felt wrong-footed.

The Ancient was to be taken back into custody, to assure her safety.

_To assure her safety. Hah._

A throb of pain brought Tseng back into the presence. He had gripped the gear stick tight enough to turn his knuckles white with pressure. Correcting his absentminded failure, he directed his gaze back down to the street-

And spotted her immediately.

Aerith was pushing herself back up to her feet as he watched, looking a tad dizzy as she stumbled again. She did not even take her time to brush herself off, instead staggering one step, then two, until she took off running again. Apparently, she had a clear goal in her mind, and it did not seem to be escaping this place like all the others. She was heading deeper into the slums, rather than towards its borders. 

She was alone, none of her new friends, be they AVALANCHE or SOLDIERs, to be seen (and that should not have shot a pang of annoyance through him but it did – _what were they thinking?_ ). Taking her into custody now would be quick and effortless. A blessing, even, considering the plate would fall any time now.

And Tseng… hesitated. Just the briefest, tiniest second of doubt-…

_“I’m counting on you.”_

… and turned the helicopter around, looking for a place to land it that was _not_ in front of the young woman and likely to block her path. 

_Let’s see what your goal is, then,_ he decided, shifting the gear stick into place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You led us on a merry chase, Aerith… Before you say another word, know that your options are limited.”

He didn’t even say the words out of cruelty. It was a simple truth, and he could see in her eyes, under all her stubborn defiance, that she knew it as well.

This dance between them had always been destined to end. Both of them had always known that the second Shinra gave the command, Tseng would make his move. He was only the weapon; they pulled the trigger.

And now the moment had come, and Aerith found herself in a situation she could not even make an attempt to escape; not with the little girl hiding behind her for safety and looking up at her with eyes that pled to not leave her alone. Not with the fierceness with which she had put herself between the child and potential danger without missing a beat.

(Who was this child, anyway? Tseng had no idea, and did not care right now to find out.)

Aerith breathed in and out slowly, before she did something most would not have expected in such a situation – she smiled. At him, first, with fire in her eyes, then at the girl holding onto her, softer now. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Okay?,” she whispered, voice low but strong.

And then, the flower girl – no, the last of the Cetra –

No.

The girl Tseng had watched grow, had seen small and afraid, had seen happy and sad, had seen fall in love and lose it again… the woman who had come out of all that stronger and braver than before, stood with her back straight and her head held high, and said with a voice strong and steady and a smile on her lips, “How about… we make a deal?”

And he was helpless to do anything but step aside for her and accept her demand with a slight bow.

Not only because he was a Turk, and his hands were bound by duty.

But also because of the pride rearing its head inside his chest, a fierce thing to burn away his apprehension. 

Whatever she asked of him right now - this was a deal he would honor, no matter the costs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t want to go with them!”

The child’s cries had reached a watery quality by the time the rotors had stopped. It grated on Tseng’s ears, each sniffle and plea further abrading something already tender inside him which he didn’t dare to analyze too closely.

The commander of the infantry Troup sent as backup reached out for the little girl, obviously at the end of his patience and ready to rip the child off of the hem of Aerith’s skirt. Tseng did not even attempt to stop Aerith from slapping the offending hand away, fire in her eyes. Instead he leveled the man with a gaze that made it _clear_ he would regret the next attempt to go against orders.

The flinch and way the other pulled back into himself was satisfying, at least. 

Seemingly positive they wouldn’t be interrupted again, Aerith turned back to the girl clinging to her, gently taking her hands in hers while she spoke to her. “It’s alright, Marlene. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promised, right?”

A teary nod. And yet the child still insisted, “But… why aren’t you coming, too?”

Green eyes flashed Tseng’s way before lowering again. He pretended he hadn’t seen it, just like he pretended he was not hearing this conversation.

“I have to go somewhere else for a while, Marlene. I’m really sorry I can’t stay with you. But!” Dipping her voice into a whisper, as if sharing a secret, Aerith continued, “You get to stay with my Mum in the meantime. And, you know what? She makes the _best_ food in all of Midgar! You will love it, I just know it!”

With a final, gentle squeeze, Aerith let go of the tiny hands, and instead put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “But, for that you have to go with Tseng here. Can you do that for me?”

Ignoring the pair of huge, teary eyes blinking his way now was a tad more difficult. There was fear there – terror, even. Clear revolt at the thought of being left alone with him. It was never the first nor the last time emotions like that had been directed his way, it did come with the job, but…

Children always made things more difficult, Tseng reflected, rubbing his fingers together just to give them something to do. Wasn’t Aerith herself the best example for that? She had turned everything upside down ever since the day he had been assigned to her.

“My Daddy says I’m not supposed to go with strangers,” the child whispered. She didn’t seem quite as convinced as before, however.

Aerith laughed quietly and framed the girl’s face in her hands. “And you’re doing really well, listening to your papa! But Tseng is not a stranger, you know? He’s…”

She trailed off and looked up at him, clearly lost as how to finish her sentence. Tseng couldn’t say anything either; not only because he did not feel like convincing this child of his intentions, but also because he didn’t know what to say, himself.

_Yes, what?_

_Tell me._

“… I know him,” Aerith finally said, her gaze never leaving his. “And he won’t ever hurt you, Marlene. Promise.”

It seemed the right thing to do, inclining his head in acknowledgement when the child turned around to him again, her gaze imploring as if to ask him _really?_

Miraculously that did the trick: The girl nodded, sniffling still, and rubbed her eyes dry with hasty swipes before letting go of Aerith hesitantly, taking a tiny step closer to Tseng.

Lifting her out of the helicopter and onto the ground was easy, after that. She didn’t struggle, didn’t scream. Didn’t try to run as soon as her feet hit the earth. She simply bit her lip, gaze wandering from Tseng to Aerith, before she hesitantly lifted one hand and waved at the young woman. “Come back soon?”

“Mh-m!” Aerith waved back cheerily, smile wide. “And greet my Mum from me, okay? You two are going to be best friends in no time!”

“… Mh-m…”

It was a blessing, really, that the child turned away from the helicopter right after to take in their surroundings with curious eyes. So it was only Tseng who saw Aerith’s smile fall and her head lower a second before the slide door fell shut, leaving the flower girl behind in the chopper, alone with two guards left and right of her.

Leading the girl through the gardens to the house turned out to take longer than just the minute Tseng had planned. The moment they rounded the corner and stopped atop the rickety wooden stairs, she froze next to him, small body going so tense and still all of a sudden that for a beat he assumed something had happened. Only when he looked down at her and realized what she was staring at, mouth open in a soundless O, did understanding set in.

Flowers did not really grow in Midgar, did they? Only in a place like this… only with Aerith.

He had almost forgotten about that, with how often he saw flowers while watching over her.

He made no move to stop the child when she scrambled down the stairs in a haste, excitement overriding all her fear for the moment. She came to a halt in front of the nearest bed of flowers, lowering herself into a crouch and reaching out gently to touch the soft petals with awe written all over her face. Raising a hand to stop the infantrymen from following her and pulling her back, he approached on quiet feet and stopped next to the child, waiting.

When she looked up and noticed him, she flinched in surprise, not having heard his approach. There was no fear in her eyes however. She met his gaze head on, unafraid, and he couldn’t help the curl of a smirk raising the corner of his mouths. There were grown men who did not face him this bravely.

“There is someone waiting for you,” he said lowly, pointing down the way with a smooth gesture.

The girl – _Marlene_ , he decided, if he was to hold up his end of the deal, he could remember the name – followed the gesture with her gaze, taking a long look at the small house at the end of the way, and nodded. She rose without making a fuss at all, falling into step with him without any push from the hand he had hovering behind her back.

Tseng could pinpoint the exact moment Elmyra pieced it all together. She opened the door to them with a furrow starting between her brows – surprise at the knock this late in the night, but no confusion; for who would it be, if not one of them, coming knocking at her door to “check in”?

It was the moment she set eyes on the girl with him that surprise _did_ turn to confusion.

Then came the fear. Flooding in from her eyes over her entire face, turning it white as a sheet while her gaze darted back up from the girl to him.

He wanted to shut his eyes to not see the silent plea there, but didn’t. Forced himself to look straight at it and not flinch.

“Hello.”

The small, high voice made both of them jump a little, looking down simultaneously to Marlene, spying around the Turk’s legs.

“I’m Marlene,” she continued, carefully creeping out from her hiding place, drawn in by the warmth and the light beckoning from inside the small place. “And, Aerith… Aerith said I can stay with you, until my Daddy comes home…?”

Elmyra softened, just like he had always known she would. Even upset as she was, she smiled, lowering herself to one knee to be on eyelevel with Marlene while she greeted her, “Hello, Marlene. I’m Elmyra, Aerith’s mother. And of course you can stay here, for as long as you like.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. There is a room, right when you go up the stairs, where you can sleep - you must be tired, coming all the way here. And when you wake up again, I’m sure your father will already be here to pick you up.” A gentle hand rose to stroke over the girl’s cheek, before landing on her shoulder and steering her over the doorstep. “Why don’t you go take a look, hm? I will come join you in a second.”

Marlene’s nod was fast, nearly eager, and she slipped away from Tseng and past Elmyra with no further hesitation.

They both listened, standing frozen, to the steps ascending the stairs first slowly, then nearly running. Waited until a door opened, then closed again.

Only then did Elmyra round on him, even though she had been quivering with underlying tension ever since opening their home to them. She approached him with the force of a storm, slapping her palm against his chest and _pushing._ There was no way she could have moved him if he had resisted, but Tseng let himself be led those two steps back needed to close the front door again, locking peace and warmth inside while they stood outside in the cold night, the air around them crackling with fury.

Elmyra’s voice rang shrill, sharp enough to cut. “You said she had to help you willingly! This whole time, you said… It thought you would not take her by force?!”

“She agreed to this,” he answered quietly, not taking to her bait nor matching her volume. 

A laugh, short and mirthless and _cruel_ , before she hissed, “She agreed to this because you _blackmailed_ her with the safety of a _child!”_

The Gainsborough women had always been too smart.

Tseng more felt than saw the infantrymen in his back shift uneasily - either from the hostility, or because of the fact that this elderly woman was up in a Turk’s face, finger digging into his chest, staring him down with all the ferocity only a worried mother could display.

If they had any sense of self-preservation, they would heed his orders and stay out of this, letting him handle it.

He didn’t waver under the venomous glare directed his way and continued evenly, “Aerith requested that you will be put in charge of the child while she herself is… in our care. In return, she comes with us, _willingly_. Now: Will you do as she asked?”

Something glinted in the woman’s eyes, and she straightened, seeming even angrier than before. Offended. “Of course I will!”

“Then our end of the deal has been fulfilled,” turning on his heel, Tseng signaled the end of the conversation. “We will take our leave now.”

“Tseng!”

He should have known better than to stop and turn. But as seemed too often the case, he did it anyway, in what he reflected must have been a misplaced feeling of respect.

Some of Elmyra’s fire had left her. Even if her eyes were still steely, there were cracks starting to show. Shoulders drawn up and arms crossed, she spoke lowly, insistently, “Promise me. Promise me that my daughter will be returned to me unharmed.”

Of course.

Out of the two of them, it had always been Aerith who had had a more realistic outlook on what falling into Shinra’s hands would mean for her. Because she had seen with her own eyes what being Shinra’s “guest” entailed, back when she had only been a child. Elmyra, on the other hand, had been left in the dark about it, and was able to blind herself with the hope that it all truly would be alright, that Aerith would be returned to her no harm done. 

And even if she had an inkling - people would convince themselves of the impossible when driven into a corner.

Tseng did not even try to answer her, honest or not. The seconds ticked by as they stared at each other, neither of them seeming to as much as blink.

Until something snapped. Elmyra’s rage flared back up again, icy this time instead of heated. Each word was a knife made to hit and hurt, and she threw them out with deadly precision. “If anything happens to Aerith, I will hold _you_ responsible for it.”

And the door slammed shut in his face with such a force that it seemed to shake the small house to its very foundations.

“… Sir?”

The infantryman addressing him hesitantly made Tseng straighten and turn away.

“We are leaving. We got what we came here for.”

_Shinra got what they wanted._

At least he had evaded making a promise which would be near impossible to keep.

He had already made too many of those.


	3. Success in failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tseng comes to the realization that to succeed in doing his duty, he will have to fail in doing his job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFVII Remake SPOILERS for chapter 15 / 16 - because Hojo shows up. 
> 
> I just hope the creepy guy is creepy enough in this one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Let me-…!”

Tseng was not surprised in the slightest when Aerith all but shoved him aside to get to the screen of the video call, her voice ringing out already as she reached with it for both hands. He let her, watching with interest as the people at the other end of the connection immediately seemed to gravitate to her, hands grasping and stretching as if they could pull her trough the screen somehow.

“Tifa!”

The speaker crackled, relief and surprise and fear filtering through in one gasped, _“Aerith?!”_

“I found Marlene! She’s save, she is-…!”

_“My Marlene?! What…”_

_“Aerith, where are you?!”_

Maybe he should have put a stop to it immediately but Tseng refrained, watching as the girl-turned-woman called out to the people left on the very same pillar which would fall in a matter of seconds, now.

Let her say her piece, he thought, waving away the infantrymen who had already darted forward to stop her. If anyone had objections to it, he could always counter that there was little harm to desperate cries in a moment like this.

Only once Aerith seemed quite finished did he step half an inch aside, signaling with a nod of his head for the other men to lead her away.

The transmission crackled with static, red flashing over the screen as the message blinked again in the top right corner – **Warning. Separation initiated. Evacuate immediately**.

And still the three people at the other end of the transmission simply refused to run. One of them – the young Ex-SOLDIER, Cloud Strife, Tseng noted with very little surprise – slammed both palms against the console in helpless rage, calling out once again to the struggling woman at Tseng’s side, _“Aerith!”_

His voice seemed to double her strength, for Aerith threw herself forward in the grip of the commander dragging her away with a force that made him almost stumble along with her, and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Run! You have to go, now!”

_“Aerith-…!”_

And the connection cut out, the screen turning dark and quiet.

For a second, Aerith seemed frozen in place, eyes wide where she stared at the dead screen – then her expression hardened. With a twist of her upper body, simultaneously stomping _hard_ down onto the foot of the infantryman who still held onto her, she broke free of the restraining grip and whipped around to level a glare at the man before he could even attempt to grab her again. The sheer righteous _fury_ written all over her features was so strong, even the trained guard faltered and hesitated, clearly insecure about whether to leave her be or not.

Tseng gestured for him to let it be while fighting down a wave of amusement colored with silent pride. There was no need to keep her chained; they had a deal, and she would uphold it.

Aerith turned to him next, scrunching up her nose in that unhappy way of hers, eyes burning. At least she did not try to step on _his_ feet as well. Small mercies. “There was _no_ reason to interrupt me! You could have let me-…!”

“Conversing with a terrorist group,” he countered, swallowing the _Do you really want Shinra to associate you with them?_ that burned on his tongue. Instead he opted for, “The company you keep is a questionable one, Aerith.”

“Well, usually _you_ keep me company, so you could say I’m used to it!”

There really was no way he could argue with that, so he did not even attempt to. Instead, he silently gestured across the room towards the elevator, raising his eyebrow a little.

It was clear she knew she had landed a point, her eyes alight with satisfaction for a beat before she scowled again. Turning with a decisive whip of her head that sent her braid swishing behind her, she strode off in the direction he had pointed her towards with all the air of insulted royalty. “I know the way myself, thank you!”

 _You do, don’t you._ The thought alone managed to extinguish any residue amusement he felt in a blink. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the child of the slums he had seen run around on dusty streets and through flower fields alike as if she had never known anything else, had actually spent the first years of her life inside Shinra’s labs. The reminder was never a nice one.

Maybe a bit too harshly, Tseng flicked his hand towards the infantrymen lingering behind. “You can go. I will take it from here.”

“But, sir-…!”

“Did I not make myself clear enough?”

Helmet or not, it was easy to see the commander grew pale and swallow dryly before the man turned and ushered his subordinates away.

It was a small relief, seeing them go; it meant being able to drop the final veneer of pretense he had had to keep up about knowing the young woman they were accompanying. The constant sneaked looks from their escort whenever Aerith had addressed him a bit _too_ personally had started to exhaust him, already.

However, it also meant the clear distinctions between the child he had known almost all her life and the Ancient he was supposed to deliver to the professor were quickly becoming difficult to remember. The lines were blurring no matter how much he tried to stop it from happening. It would be a good explanation for the feeling of growing uneasiness when he looked up to see Aerith stand in front of the elevator which would bring them to the research sector.

_Right into the monster’s den._

Shaking the thought as best as he could, Tseng caught up the Aerith with quick strides and pressed the elevator’s button with more force than was strictly necessary.

Because, he wondered while they entered the cabin, what was he supposed to _do?_ Let her go by pretending she had slipped away? She wouldn’t even make it to the front doors before she was captured again. Accompany her on a desperate run? They would both die, gunned down as any other fugitive would be.

… He couldn’t believe the thought even crossed his mind, brief though it was. He had escaped an execution only by a hair’s breadth not too long ago; apparently, he had learned nothing from it.

A glance over to check on his charge made him pause and take a second, longer look. Standing ramrod straight, Aerith had her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her, hardly even blinking. Her usually so expressive face was blank and still as marble, features carefully arranged into impassiveness.

She was trying hard to seem unmoved by all of this. _Too hard,_ Tseng thought without meaning to.

The sight brought back memories from long ago, things he had thought lost and forgotten and now recalled vividly. Pictures of a younger Aerith, a mere then child, floated to the forefront of his mind. Back when she had still been too little to differentiate between “Shinra” and “Turk” or “surveillance” and “caging”, and Tseng had been nothing more to her than a “bad man” who was trying to take her away from her second mother, back to a place of hell.

He could recall the event clearly: She had fallen while playing on the rundown playground in Sector 5. Skinned up her entire shin and both her palms upon landing and sliding a good distance further. By the time he had reached her – moving from his position to get to her without thinking – she had already gotten up again, and stared him straight in the eye.

And had not cried.

She had stood there, bleeding, shoulders shaking, biting her bottom lip hard enough to break skin, and had _refused_ to give in and cry in front of him. To show him any fear, or weakness. 

The carefully held expression on her face right now reminded him of that child again, who had not wanted to show any weakness. 

His hand twitched to reach for her without his conscious thought. Stopped abruptly, halfway there, when his mind caught up with his body again. With a deep, slow breath, Tseng curled the offending fingers into a fist tight enough to hurt – a warning to himself – before folding both of his hands behind his back. Fingers linked tightly to nip any further such instinct in the bud.

_Don’t._

_There’s nothing I can do._

_Nothing I can…_

**_... I_ ** _can’t._

_But…_

The elevator dinged quietly, signaling their arrival, the same moment the idea took root in Tseng’s mind. Just when Aerith breathed in deeply and made to step forward, out of the opening doors and into the hallway beyond, Tseng surprised them both by murmuring, “You think they survived the plate’s fall, don’t you.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it to be true. No matter how hard she tried – worry over others’ wellbeing was something Aerith had never been able to hide. The fact that she had not shown more fear over the fate of her unusual friends told him everything he needed to know.

It was easy to see how unexpected the question had been for Aerith. She stopped as abruptly as if struck, a flicker of something in her eyes as she faced him that he couldn’t name. He didn’t let any of his own inner war show on his face, or at least he hoped he didn’t, and met her gaze steadily.

“Yes,” she said finally, voice steady and sure and chin raised as if to say _What are you going to do about it?_

“And you think they will come for you?”

The pause was much longer this time as she seemed to consider the question… then Aerith’s expression morphed into something akin to a wistful smile, and her gaze dropped away from his. “They… they might.”

Rather than defiance or hope, her voice was full of surprise and dawning realization, and Tseng understood all too well _why_. It seemed laughable to entertain such an idea. For who would be driven enough, devoted enough, _insane_ enough, to storm the Shinra Headquarters to save a single person out of their innermost sanctum?

Well. There was a small terrorist group which just might.

A quiet noise signaled the door closing once more. It ripped both of them out of their reflection, and Tseng reached out to stop the doors again, turning to Aerith to usher her through.

Her gaze wandered past him, towards the door at the end of the hallway, and she straightened again, all her emotions vanishing behind the unmoving mask of her control again. She strode past him head held high and hands folded neatly in front of her, and he followed, her faithful shadow on this last walk.

The laboratories were, quite possibly, the most uninviting place in the entire headquarters. They always managed to remind Tseng of futuristic tombs upon his visits, with their unnatural, sickly lighting and every possible surface made polished cold metal and bulletproof glass. The scent of too much disinfectant always hung heavy in the air to cover up other things which one wouldn’t want to think about for long. 

If he had to be honest about it, perhaps Tseng would have grudgingly admitted that he avoided the place whenever he could. It made the hairs at the back of his neck rise, every single one of his senses going into overdrive in preparation for a possible danger.

This time, it was worse. He became uncomfortably aware of that when Aerith hesitated on her first step away from the door, and once more when she stayed too close to his side as they proceeded. Not touching; possibly not even aware of herself unconsciously swaying closer to Tseng as if to hide behind him; as if he could protect her from this place.

They made their way into the main part of the laboratory, past scientists who fell silent when they approached and started whispering as soon as their backs where turned. Snippets of the mumbling followed them, haunting them like ghosts: “ _Ancient”, “Cetra”, “Promised”._ The constant buzz of it did nothing to soothe Tseng’s already frayed nerves, and he was absolutely ready to simply grab someone and demand to be led to their superior, when he was beat to it.

“Aaaaah! Finally!”

Tseng nearly reached for his gun out of sheer reflex when someone exclaimed loudly right in his back; next to him, Aerith’s step faltered, her breath hitching audibly. They both turned around equally abrupt, and Tseng shifted half a step in front of the young woman without thinking.

Professor Hojo strode towards them from the direction of the elevator which led deeper into the labs with long steps. He was wringing his hands in obvious glee, a crooked smirk on his lips as mustered Aerith from head to toe much like one would look at a priced thing finally coming into their possession. Even behind tinted glasses, his gaze had such an intensity to it, anyone who fell victim to it must have felt like they were being skinned alive; taken apart particle by particle until they lay bare before Shinra’s head of science.

“ _Aerith_ ,” he crooned through a smile that was all teeth, throwing his hands out wide as if he was either going to hug the woman or grab her. Tseng heard Aerith’s breath hiss quietly behind him. “After _all_ these years, you have come back to us. Really, a joyous action. The lost child of Ifalna, returning where she belongs.”

There was a short pause in Hojo’s approach when his stride was interrupted by Tseng, who had not moved an inch from his position between Aerith and the man. A flicker of annoyance drew the lines in his haggard face deeper, before the scientist changed his plans and ducked around the Turk, focus fully on Aerith again. “My, my, haven’t you grown to be the spitting image of your late mother… a beauty, aren’t you? But of course, it has been well over a decade now. You must be about the same age now as she was, back then when I first met her…”

He circled her like a predator who had gotten a first taste of fresh blood; muttering to himself while he tapped his chin, fingers of his free hand twitching at his side as if he wished for something to take notes with. Aerith turned with him, always keeping her eyes on him with her chin raised high in defiance.

Tseng wondered briefly if the professor would also notice her fists, balled so tightly the knuckles where white as snow and her nails must have long since bitten into her skins.

“… Yes, yes… so much potential. So many wonderful mysteries to be discovered still,” coming to a sharp stop, Hojo reached for Aerith’s face. “It will be a delight, working on _you_ , my dear…” 

Something in the way Aerith leaned back as far as she could without stepping back, lips pressed tightly together, was the last push Tseng needed to speak up, quiet yet sharp and seconds before the long fingers reached their goal. “Professor.”

“Hm?” Hojo seemed to be disoriented for a second as he ripped his gaze away from Aerith, giving her the opening she needed to take half a step back and put some distance between them. That uncomfortable laser-focus was instead directed Tseng’s way, and the scientists scowled unhappily. “Oh, you are still here… yes, what?! Don’t interrupt me now!”

A lesser man might have flinched back at the sharp words and the droplets of spit flying his way. Tseng continued smoothly and evenly. “I was told to remind you that the president insists on the Ancient’s cooperation with us. Getting her to work with us by force is not-…”

“… is not our goal, yes, yes, I am aware of that!” Waving impatiently, as if to shoo the Turk away, Hojo turned and walked a short distance, gesticulating and talking all the while. “I will keep it in mind. The president can rest assured, I do have ways and means to… ensure cooperation, if necessary.”

With the suddenness of a striking snake, the professor whipped back around, snapping his fingers impatiently in Tseng’s direction. “Is that all?”

“…Yes.”

“Yes? Then leave us! I have important work to do, and you’re standing in the way.”

That was a clear enough order. He should have left then, turned on his heels and strode out the doors.

Instead, Tseng stood frozen where he was, mind wiped blank. Why he suddenly hesitated, he couldn’t even say for sure himself. He had always known he would take his leave as soon as the Ancient – _Aerith_ \- had reached the labs, and yet…

His gaze darted over to Aerith and if he had felt bile rise to his mouth before, he felt positively nauseous now. Aerith was staring back at him with the same kind of surprised shock which he felt, her calm veneer cracking and slipping while she stared at him with a plea clear in her eyes. A plea for him to not leave her, to stay.

As if him leaving her alone there, in this pit of snakes, took away the last protection and hope she had had.

He felt quite the same as her.

_Protecting the subject is part of surveillance duty._

Time and time again had Tseng told himself and others those words – explanation and excuse wrapped into one, offered whenever he had been questioned about doing his job with the proper distance. Reassurance, sometimes, for himself and Aerith and others.

As long as Aerith was his charge, he would keep her safe; that had always been how he had interpreted his job.

And now he had led her straight into the most dangerous place she could possibly be, and he was to leave her here without protection? That couldn’t be right, and yet it… it was exactly what was asked of him.

It was ridiculous, he realized wildly, that by following his orders to the end, he had gone against what he had convinced himself was the main part of his job.

How had he fooled himself for so long that he had not seen it until now?

_“I’m counting on you.”_

_“Promise me.”_

How had anyone – how had _he_ thought he could prevent _any_ of this?

“Well?! What is it? Stop wasting my time!”

_There is nothing I can do_.

This time, the words weren’t a warning to himself, but rather a chilling realization. Had anyone bothered to look at him right then and there, Tseng was sure they could have read it clear as day on his expression; he was sure Aerith saw it when her own face turned nearly ashen seconds after he came to this conclusion.

He couldn’t breathe, blood rushing in his ears. He had to move; the longer he stood here unmoving, the more suspicion he would draw. He had to…

 _There’s absolutely nothing I can do,_ he forced himself to think, driving each word forward with force. _Nothing. So, move. Move._

It felt like one of his nightmares, turning his gaze away from Aerith slowly, and making his legs move again. One foot in front of the other, on stiff legs so different from his usual confident, smooth stride, Tseng made his way towards the labs’ doors the same way they had come in. 

“Finally,” he heard in his back, over the _thump-thump_ of his too-fast heartbeat. “This way, my dear, this way… into the tank with you, a bit faster! We have no time to lose! So many years wasted – but then again, you have become an even more intriguing subject in the meantime, haven’t you? So much to learn about you! We are going to have so much fun together-…”

The slide doors hissed closed behind Tseng again, cutting any sound off.

The track through the empty hallway back to the elevator seemed to stretch into infinity, each step more of a hassle than the last. There was, thankfully, nobody already in the elevator, so as soon as the doors closed behind him, Tseng reached for the wall, or more stumbled into it, leaning his entire weight into it for support while his breath hitched, staggered, and then came in great, too-fast gulps. Wave after wave of nausea and vertigo crashed over him, putting cold sweat onto his forehead and sending his hands shaking.

It felt as if his entire chest was being crushed, a weight on his shoulders making him helpless, useless and panicked. He was familiar with the feeling, had felt it every time he snapped out of a nightmare which had ended in him seeing Veld dead, Zack dead, blood on his hands and the illusion of a gun still heavy in his hands because he _had_ killed them, hadn’t he, killed them both because he was too powerless and too late-…

_“You’re the only one I can depend on.”_

The memory rang in his head as clear as the first day. Back then, the words had made him laugh involuntarily – the idea of someone depending on him, a Turk, a spy, a liar and a murderer, strangely funny and… nice. It had been nice, being trusted without a moment’s hesitation, without a second thought. Perhaps that was the other reason Tseng had held onto the words tightly, intent on seeing it through; not just because of who had uttered them, but also what they meant.

Now the words left the taste of blood and ashes in his mouth. Made him grit his teeth to stop himself from throwing up for real.

_I’m sorry, Zack,_ Tseng thought fervently, fighting to draw steady breaths. _I can’t do anything... I never could._

_You put your trust in the wrong man._

_…_

_Put your trust in…?_

Something about the words sparked a different thought in his mind, something in stark contrast to the helpless rage pulsing through him. He reached for it like a drowning man would grasp for a lifeline. Anything, any solution to this disaster.

He came up with his previous, laughable train of thought - with the memory of people reaching for Aerith as if to save her, even though they were under the threat of a falling plate themselves. Found himself with the picture of a Buster Sword, and mako-eyes beneath tousled blond fringe, clear in front of his inner eye.

_“And you think they will come for you?”_

_“They… they might.”_

It was an absolutely far-fetched idea. A childish, irrational hope. Nobody should have been brave or stupid enough to even _consider_ trying to break someone out of Shinra’s headquarters.

As a trained Turk who had already seen too much in his life, Tseng should have known better than to hope for hope beyond hope.

But then, there were many, many things he should have known better, and he had done them, anyway; call it softness, or call it idiocy, he did not care right now.

Aerith had believed there might be a chance. And Zack… Zack had believed in Cloud Strife, for reasons Tseng would never be able to ask him about now. And even without a sound argument for it, that still left him with two people whom he trusted who had both put their faith in the same person.

And if there was even the smallest chance…

His heartbeat and breathing had calmed by the time the elevator reached its destination. Feeling more stable again, Tseng drew a deep breath and straightened up. His hands were still shaking the slightest bit and he felt worn out as if he put through a box fight, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with; nothing he couldn’t gloss over. Decisively, he pulled a tissue from one pocket o wipe the sweat his face, then slipped it back again and smoothed out his suit. One quick look into the mirror at the back of the elevator, he carded one hand through his hair and straightened his tie, making sure he looked as put together as possible. _Show no weakness._

Then he strode down the hallway towards the elevator with all the grace he could muster, expression impassive and calm.

Nobody who would encounter him on his way to his office would have any idea that internally, for the first time in a long while, Tseng was praying to any power which might be listening, that Aerith and Zack had been _right._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ VII ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, an alarm was set off that only the departments for public safety and the department of general affairs would be notified about.

There were intruders in headquarters. First reports coming in along with the alarm talked about three people; one female, two male. One of the men was carrying a huge sword.

Somehow, against all logic and sense, the small group had managed to break into HQ, had made their way up all the floors, and was now wreaking havoc in Hojo’s laboratory. How they had managed to avoid all security and remained unseen until reaching the labs was a mystery, but not one anyone had the mind to solve right now. The entire upper floors were in turmoil: The military tried to get into the laboratory but found themselves unable to, since Hojo had locked down everything, preventing anyone from getting in or out. Apparently, according to the assistants who had fled the laboratory before the lockdown, apparently the professor planned to “collect more data” for whatever purpose by conducting his own tests with the terrorists, so he had locked himself inside his restricted laboratory together with them.

The whole situation was a mess, for sure. One that needed to be resolved as quickly as possible, and preferably before President Shinra was made aware of the fact that their fortress had been stormed by three people alone.

Of course Tseng, as a dutiful employee of ShinRa, immediately sent Heidegger a message to let his superior know the Turks were ready to lend their help in stopping the intruders should the need arise.

The answer arrived quickly, electronically, and basically was exactly what he had expected and counted on: Heidegger let him know, in no uncertain terms, that they wouldn’t need _you smug, suit-wearing bastards’_ help, since the public safety department would be more than enough to stomp these bugs crawling into their main quarters to death. And that was that.

It had all gone as Tseng had hoped for, even better perhaps.

Heidegger had never been fond of the Turks beyond the success and glory they could bring him, and ever since most of them had defected, the military man did not trust them in anything that could be important. The other’s bloated pride and paranoia alone would be enough to ensure that none of the Turks would have to make a single move regarding this issue, except if the vice-president’s life should be in danger.

And Tseng would not even have to come up with an excuse _why_ he had not lifted a single finger to stop the Ancient’s escape. He had offered; he had been rejected. Nothing could be laid out as him _refusing_ to recapture Aerith.

It was not much, not by a long shot, but it was all he could do, and it was more than he had expected. From here on out, what happened to Aerith was not in his hands anymore.

It certainly had its own drawbacks, but… at least he no longer had to fear getting her blood on his hands.

Breathing freely and evenly, a weak smile tugging at his lips, Tseng sent a quiet thanks to the heavens.

Zack and Aerith had put their faith in the right people, it seemed. He would have to trust their judgement now, and leave the rest to these unlikely friends Aerith had acquired somehow.

_Nothing **I** can do. _

_But **they** might be able to. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a gamble of making Tseng "OOC" in this chapter by having him break down under the pressure, shortly or not, but I decided to take the risk. After all, the guy is still human - and in a period of merely two to three months, he had to fight off a summon that could destroy the world, fake-execute his boss and mentor, try and fail to save Zack, and realizes he cannot save Aerith by doing what he always did - his job. I think if anyone deserves to have a short moment "OMG I can't do this anymore", its' probably Tseng.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: It DID hit me, after uploading this, that technically Zack's body would have disappeared into the Lifestream so the Turks would have been unable to find him there (which is kind of tragic in its own way - they never could have been SURE what happened to him) but uh... can we just chalk this up to "they were too late to save him, but arrived still in time BEFORE he disappeared", please? XD I kind of like it, this way.


End file.
